When World's Collide, Passions Ignite
Today, I’m part of Jane Wakely’s Spring Fling Blog Hop. Here are the prizes for the hop:
1 Kindle Fire (Donated by Blushing Books)
1 $75 Amazon (or B&N) Gift Card
1 $25 Starbucks Gift Card (Donated by Sue)
1 $25 Blushing Books Gift Card (Donated by Patty)
1 $25 Loose Id Gift Card (Donated by Cara)
To that list – I’m adding a copy of my latest release, Cupid’s Arrow, Simply leave a comment and you’re entered in the contest.
NOTE: Winners will be announced here, on FB, and Twitter on Tuesday, March 25, 2014.
I live in South Florida so for us Spring is almost non-existent. We go from our delicious winter to hot, humid, sweltering summer. But, I lived in Canada for many years, and during that time, Spring was my favorite season. I love the absolute feeling of renewal, the surging energy on the first warm day, and that overwhelming belief that anything’s possible because Old Man Winter no longer rules.
Today, too, I handed in my completed contemporary paranormal suspense to my editor(Georgia Woods) at Taliesin Publishing , Wilde Wolf.
So, here’s a little Thursday Teaser from the book:
Blurb:
Tania, a Wylfen aristocrat, hooks up with a stranger right before her twin’s graduation from military college. Not hours later, the bottom drops out of her world when she’s introduced to Axe, her twin’s new SEAL commander. Then she discovers he’s a Wilde Wolf, the arch enemy of her people. Wylfen laws prohibit her from mating with a half-breed. If anyone finds out she’s mated with Axe, exile is the least she has to fear…
Excerpt (Unedited):
“I saw when you left the tablet behind on one of the chairs in the lobby yesterday. Tried to return it to you, but by the time I got to the door, you were speeding off in a cab. Took it to the front desk and gave them your description.” He toweled off the drop of perspiration beading a granite chin dusted with stubble the color of molasses.
The musky aroma of his sweat, the faint remnants of some sandalwoody aftershave, plus a flash of pheromones proved intoxicating. He stopped less than an arm’s length away from her but stood to her left giving her a profile view of him.
A bolt of lightning-white lust had Tania trembling from head to sock covered toes. Only by chewing the inside of her cheek did she manage to not check out his package. He had to have a big dick. Any man that warrior hard had to have a cock to go with those incredibly cut arms and legs.
Her vaginal walls pulsed. She couldn’t wait to have him hammering into her pussy.
When he grinned down at her, she was mesmerized by the way one lip quirked up at the corner, and a hint of a dimple flashed. “Well? Did Lost and Found contact you?”
Found what? Cripes. She’d been so caught up in visualizing his cock that the tablet had flown out of her head.
“Oh.” She willed her open mouth shut. “I mean. Yes, I got it back. Thank you. Thank you. I’d never expected to see it again. It’s my work tablet, and you’ve no idea how much I dreaded having to report it lost.”
He smiled and she went hurdling into another greedy-for-his-cock spiral. No one should have that kind of smile. Genuine. Reflected in his slate-colored eyes. Devilish. Almost wolfish. “Glad to be of help. Want to buy me a thank you drink?”
He felt it too. The sparks between them. And acknowledged it.
Was she going to get laid or what?
Tania went for the down and dirty. Human males were so easy to sex-manipulate. Every platitude about the little head ruling the big, but duh-uh horny, one was so true. “Do you one better. I haven’t had breakfast yet and, all of a sudden, I’m not in the mood for a workout. In a gym, that is. Want to have breakfast in bed with me?”
Hope you enjoyed!
To continue on the blog hop, click on the link below:
www.hopswithheart.blogspot.com
Here’s the Rafflecopter link:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Good Luck to Everyone!
Cheers.
Jianne
Well, it didn’t last long, but Branded by Étaín made it onto the Kindle Top 100 list!
And That Pearly Drop is #40 on the ARe Best Seller list (and it released in October – yay!).
I’ve never paid attention to these lists – too depressing if you never make them and too addictive to chart a new release’s dramatic climb and drop. For Branded though a fan emailed me the book’s rise and fall every couple of hours or so. Yuck. I hope never to know again. Honestly, I’d prefer to be blissfully unaware – it’s too easy to stumble into that I’ve-no-talent-and-should-quit crevasse.
So, today I’m grateful for the news, but plan to stop this maddening, obsessive, endless loop of checking book and author stats constantly.
I leave you with another titillating preview of Branded by Étaín:
“When begins The Choosing?”
“I know not if I will wait for it. I am loath to gamble on her choosing me.” Brand fingered the stubble on his chin.
Once every five summers on the last night of the festival of Lúnasa, the women of Caul Cairlinne could choose their mate. The church blessed the unions, which lasted a year and a day. After that time, the couples could decide to remain married or separate.
“’Twould be better if she picked you.”
“Aye, but what if she does not?” Brand’s gaze never wavered from the line of marriageable women weaving their way through the hall.
He held his breath when Étaín came into view. Her glorious golden curls hung in glistening tendrils clear to her knees. She had a habit of flaring her nostrils and firming her chin when all eyes were upon her. He knew in his gut she hated being the center of attention.
’Twas her obvious vulnerability that stirred him.
’Twas her startling beauty that had him hard and aching in a heartbeat.
He had studied her these past months searching for flaws, for the arrogance and conceit that always accompanied females of royal birth, and found naught. She spoke to beggar and princes alike with the same gentle inquiry, gifted all with a sparkling smile that twisted his belly into coils, and appeared unaware of the rough sailors and traders who stared at her with blatant, greedy lust.
A slight draft molded the fine linen of the leine she wore around her firm breasts. She blinked and unerringly swung her head and met his stare. A smile fluttered around her rosy lips.
Those haunting eyes the color of rich molasses spoke to him.
He fisted his hands, the urge to reach for her nigh overwhelming.
Mine.
She halted for a moment as if hearing his silent declaration, and the sheer joy lighting her features dazzled him. All the blood in his body pooled in his groin. Desire speared him.
Taking a deep breath, Brand inclined his head and smiled.
Her teeth gleamed snowy white under the flickering candles when she beamed at him. Giving a little shake of her head, she dipped into her basket and threw petals and green-needled twigs high into the air. A couple of skips and a hop later, she arrived at the dais, the last female to line up below the table, and made a graceful curtsey.
King Mac Eiccnigh mac Dalagh had taken his place on the dais and stood smiling benignly at the women standing before him, his gaze lingering on Étaín. The pride on his face could not be denied, nor the love.
Brand inspected the others present at the high table. He had made it his business to know who was who in Caul Cairlinne.
Étaín’s two younger sisters stood on either side of the king. Irvin, a distant relative, stood at the left end of table speaking with a couple of his warriors. To the right of King Mac Eiccnigh mac Dalagh, three of the men who stood as Caul Cairlinne’s elderly council watched the assembly while sipping from brass goblets. Five women who had seen at least two score summers stood whispering and grinning at the line of young women before the high table.
Two men on either side of the dais put long curved trumpets to their lips and blew. A series of triumphant, melodic blasts echoed around the great hall.
“Hear ye, hear ye,” one of the elders on the dais yelled.
“The ear of corn has been planted, the bull slaughtered,” another declared.
“’Tis time for The Choosing,” the last shouted.
“Princess Étaín, do you choose or not?” King Mac Eiccnigh mac Dalagh asked, his sole focus on his daughter.
The hall fell silent. Every pair of eyes in the packed chamber trained on the petite Princess.
Hope you enjoyed!
Cheers,
Jianne
Release day for a new book is both exhilarating and downright terrifying for me. My poor gray matter’s a-buzz with stinging questions and worry.
Will readers like it? OMG – are the reviewers going to trash it? Except for the copy my mom always buys, will anyone fork out the $ to purchase it?
Today’s no different from any of my other release days. My stomach’s rioting and all I can gulp down is way too much coffee.
At any rate, Branded by Étaín is now available from the regular suspects, but here are the three main links, the book blurb, cover, and another excerpt:
Blurb:
Can a princess tame a beast?
Princess Étaín of Caul Carlinne remains unsullied by her violent past. When she chooses Brand of Bärvik as her mate, has she brought havoc and destruction to her people?
Excerpt – Branded by Étaín, The Beasts of Bärvik Book One:
Étaín interrupted Margie’s third iteration of what to expect when Brand consummated their marriage. She had not a shred of worry that the act would be anything but wondrous. “Be done with it, Margie. My head fair throbs with thoughts of peckers, stones, pearls, and quims. I trust in Brand. Did he not say he would cherish me when Da asked? I am a truthsayer. He spoke truly.”
“He is a very large man.” Margie picked up a tortoise shell horsehair brush and stroked Étaín’s springy curls.
“So is your Darren.”
“I am twice your height and weight. ’Tis easier for a woman like me to accommodate a large pecker. You must not overexcite him, otherwise he will be rough with you.”
“How could I overexcite him?” The mere sight of him made her woman parts moisten. Did the same happen with men?
“Do not caress his willy and touch not his balls.”
“Willy? Balls?” ’Twas a new language to be learned for this bedsport.
“Pecker, stones. Men have scores of names for their parts. Some e’en name them. Darren says his brother, Padraig, calls his prick ‘Olympus.’”
Étaín’s heart skipped a few beats when the sound of stomping feet reached her ears. “Did you hear that?”
“Aye. They approach. Quick, under the sheets. I will leave after the last man departs.” Margie drew the linen covers to right under Étaín’s chin and gave her a quick hug.
The doors slammed open, and the men of Caul Cairlinne, carrying a naked Brand above their heads, tramped into the room roaring the limerick Prick Her Well. The words ricocheted around the chamber:
Prick her well,
And her belly will swell,
Fill her with your seed,
And ease your need,
Make her see stars,
And sons be your rewards
The singing faded into the background when the men dumped Brand onto the other side of the bed.
I hope you enjoyed, and, if you did – Tweet it, FB it for me!
Cheers,
Jianne
Here’s another excerpt from Branded by Étaín , The Beasts of Bärvik, Book One:
“’Tis a prosperous settlement.” Nikolas pulled the hood of his thick cloak forward.
“Aye.”
“How fared your meeting with Princess Étaín?”
“As planned. We are invited to feast at the castle.” Odin’s luck had been with Brand the first day he set foot on Caul Cairlinne.
He had encountered his prey, Princess Étaín, and captured her attention with one heated glance. Every night since then, he had woven his way into her dreams and filled her mind with images of the two of them in bedsport. Timid visions, to be cert.
It had taken all his discipline to keep the images tame. To tamp down his burning desire to bedevil her with carnal pleasure until she did his bidding with not a moment’s hesitation.
Brand studied the crowded market and spied Étaín turning onto one of the paths leading away from the village. She headed in the direction of the blacksmith. A smile chased his lips. He had promised the blacksmith work aplenty, enough to fill his coffers for a lifetime and more, and gained a wealth of knowledge in return.
Princess Étaín.
The truthsayer of Caul Cairlinne, the daughter of King Mac Eiccnigh mac [111] Dalagh[J2] , his wife to be, and the woman who would make him a ruler of this settlement.
Her innocence struck at the ugliness carved into his soul, the beast that had arisen within him and the other members of his demesne when the fire mountain on their isle[J3] began spewing its innards and dense clouds of acrid smoke and black ash.
Their herds died overnight. Hundreds of cattle carcasses littered the settlement. The stench had been overwhelming. A sickness spread through the population and sent those who were struck into a berserker killing spree. Then the dream weaving began in the survivors and threatened their sanity. Brand had been the first one to speak of it, and he became the leader of the reduced numbers left in the colony.
“Think you she will breed the dream weaving out of you?”
Brand shrugged. “Only time will tell.”
The sun bathed the crush of market goers and glinted off the axes of the fisherman hacking at their catch. He followed Étaín’s lithe form as she meandered between the throngs.
She brimmed with life spirit, the joy bubbling into her lithe fidgeting; the happiness she exuded glowed like ’twas a tiny bright sun following her, which shone only on her petite figure. She bristled with energy and had danced in place earlier while searching the throngs for him.
He smirked. It was him she looked for, it was him she sought, and tonight he would make her his.
Hope you enjoyed!
Jianne
